Cycles Linked
by brandysauce
Summary: Ay, another Sima Yi romance. Also features Xiahou Ba (Zhongquan) and Jiang Wei (Boyue). To be presented in four books (or an approximate number; not sure as my muse demanded Ma Dai also be introduced).
1. Liber Primus

Yes, yes another Sima Yi yaoi. But he's sooo sexy; that's the reason for all the fics about him, right? I took a little artistic license with this one: I know the events here occurred in the autumn, but it's more poetic and pretty if it happens in the spring for my purposes in this story. Okay? Good, oh, and one last thing: the characters are not my creations, as is abundantly evident. Also, all songs presented here are Savage Garden songs, also not mine. Thank you. And now, the story.

***

**Blossoms Adrift**

What a strange thing beauty is; how light human existence. For this fragile existence we have mysterious beauty, like a sunset, fleeting, only a bit of all the universe, and yet so consuming in its time.

In this candlelit tent I have yet another chance to observe my favorite example of these thoughts. It is a subtle beauty. Most would, I think, not see it, but I have been lucky enough to know it, to study it. The motion of his hands, at once careful and careless, the delicate color highlighting his cheekbones as he focuses on his schemes. The grace and wit of my Marshal shine through his plans, and we must carry them out, trying to live up to his wondrous standard.

Though he is widely admired, few appreciate how lovely is the Marshal. I am sure Cao Fang sees the elegance in his 'second father' and my brothers know something of my adoration. He looks up from his writings now to give orders. Enchanted I watch the slight curve on his lips, a delicate arching of one eyebrow, the pleased shine in his eyes as he delivers instructions to crush the enemy. He reminds me so of a cat, all measured grace and surety surrounding deadly instinct; even toying with his prey before the fatal strike.

His voice is soft as he tells each general his orders, dismissing them one by one. Soon I am alone but for my brother with that silken voice. If leopards could talk, I am sure they would speak thus before the hunt. My brother nods, bows, and departs. My master turns now to me; now my turn to receive the leopard's voice.

"General Ba."

His eyes are so deep, wise, and commanding, half meeting mine. "Yes, Field Marshal."

"Take two thousand. Wait in ambush at Winnow Basket Gorge opposite your brother."

I bow consent. His eyes now fully connect with mine for a last reminder.

"Keep careful," he tells me, his fingers brushing a scar on my face.

"Of course, Zhongda."

"Of course," he echoes, fingertips sliding from my skin.

I bow again and depart, stepping into a sunrise in which spotted petals fall from a wild peach tree; one petal brushes along my scar as it floats with the eternal wind.

***

__

Maybe it's intuition

But some things you just don't question

Like in your eyes

I see my future in an instant

And there it goes

I think I've found my best friend

I know that it might sound more than a little crazy

But I believe

I knew I loved you before I met you

I think I dreamed you into life

I knew I loved you before I met you

I have been waiting all my life

There's just no rhyme or reason

Only a sense of completion

And in your eyes

I see the missing pieces

I'm searching for

I think I've found my way home

I know that it might sound more than a little crazy

But I believe

I knew I loved you before I met you

I think I dreamed you into life

I knew I loved you before I met you

I have been waiting all my life

A thousand angels dance around you

I am complete now that I've found you

I knew I loved you before I met you

I think I dreamed you into life

I knew I loved you before I met you

I have been waiting all my life

***

I stand in a rain of falling flower petals, as though the trees are weeping. Pink and white blossoms drift all about me, some to rest at my feet, some to float on the wind, where to I cannot imagine. One settles in the lock of hair that has slipped from its knot. Absently, I comb it out with my fingers and hold it in my palm, reflecting on the temporary nature of life. Yet, not so temporary, for next spring will be another rain of blossoms; cycles will fulfill themselves without end. And each flower, each zephyr, each man and woman is only a part of a cycle. I gently cast the flower to the breeze, and turn toward my Marshal's tent.

I know he is inside, resting. Like a cat he will sleep lightly, alert, preparing for a pounce. I know also that as a cat will be startled by sudden noise or movement, so my Marshal will startle to news, or even his own thoughts. Though he stalks so surely, so elegantly, through war, fear is no stranger to him. I do not mean just the paranoia that any leader must face; I mean the fear we all discover as children in the dark—simple emotion defining us as human.

One night I had been guarding his tent; I could hear him restless inside. Obeying what was not quite a voice inside me I slipped in. The light cover on his bed was disarrayed from his turning over and shifting positions. His eyes were closed, but he was not asleep. On impulse born of loving order and my lord I moved quietly and smoothed the cloth into place. I brushed a few strands of hair out of his face and knelt by him watchful. He was not moving but still I could sense his unease. Tentatively I stroked his back until he calmed; his breathing became soft and even as he found sleep. One hand curled about mine as I moved it slowly from his back, and then he was fully asleep. I watched him, composed in sleep as he was awake, his hair like dark liquid flowing about his head. Perfection, fear vanished, almost cuddling my hand to him.

With a sigh I let the memory go, give the weeping trees a final glance, and allow Xiahou He to take my attention to the execution of the brilliant plans of our resting Marshal.

***

Aww, felt so good to write that. More coming. If the tent scene is unclear, a) assume guard duty is rotated or something (for the sake of this story, okay? Ba needs an excuse to be in Yi's tent), b) Yi is sleeping on his side, facing Ba, so Ba would have to move his hand over Yi so it could be grabbed.


	2. Liber Secundus

I took a bit of license with this chapter too. Jiang Wei ought to be in a city, but I have in a camp. He's in defense at the time, so he would just be sitting, scheming, hoping nobody attacks, so this'll work for a pretty story. With the introduction of new characters, points of view will be changing. To avoid confusion, Ba's narratives will be indicated with a () and Wei's with a [].

***

****

Stung

() The dark seeps close about me, smothering me in my own torment. My heart is still beating far too quickly; my mouth is filled with a bitter sharpness that I long to spit into his face. Deep inside, my writhing mind I hear laughter. I am mocking myself, or is it the memory of loving him? The love that once so sweetly warmed me is now the poisonous resentment coiling through every fiber of my being.

I stride angrily along the paths I know so well down to the fishpond and willows hanging over it. My shoulders burning with tension I slump onto the ground, staring blankly though there is nothing to see in this dark. Thought is impossible; my mind swirls sickeningly. I do not know what I want. I want revenge; I want to die: I want to hold him; I want to forget he ever existed. How could he? How could his eyes shine so warmly while he reminded me to win his battles? How could he so coldly wish death on my clan? The bastard—I want to purge myself of every trace of him. But how could he ever be forgotten, let go of?

I snap a twig off the nearest willow branch. I trail it in the water, watching the ripples only just visible in tiny presence of tonight's cruel starlight. Shaking, I choke on my tears; my noiseless crying fills my mouth with a peculiar heavy sweetness that doe not erase the original bitterness. What must I do? Longing for the taste of blood washes over me. Throwing the twig hard away I know what I ought to do. It makes, of course, perfect sense in this black, toxic night, but it is frightful, near unthinkable. I wish that I could sit in this terrifying dark forever, battling inside myself. That prospect, too, is hideous, and cold resolve grows within me, tightening inside. My hand tightens about the hilt of my sword as the chill wounded resolve clenches my heart. My teeth grind until I give myself a headache while I begin my plot.

***

__

Love and other moments are just chemical reactions in your brain

And feelings of aggression are the absence of the love drug in your veins

In you veins

Loves come quickly

Because I feel my self-esteem is caving in

It's on the brink

Love come quickly

Because I don't think I can keep this monster in

It's in my skin

***

[] I sit in the mist, sorrowful. My late Prime Minister's memory hangs heavily in the fog and in my heart. I know my men, my family, my kingdom care something for me, yet I feel so alone. Ma Dai appears quietly beside me out of the thick mist. He bows carefully and seats himself to my left. Handing me a tray of food he greets me, "I hope the Commander is well this morning."

I detect the note of worry in his voice; my sometimes sullen behavior concerns him. Setting the tray on the ground before me I summon a wraith of a smile. "I am quite well, Dai; better for your concern." I tell him as I drape my arm about his shoulders.

"So I would hope, Boyue." my general replies, looking at me fondly. How am I to resist those sweet features while the mist secludes us? I truly smile as I lean in to kiss him. I feel his hands settle on my waist; his fingers curl when I brush my tongue along his lip. Yet pleasant and comforting as this moment is, I have a war to attend to. I attempt breaking off the kiss, but his grip becomes almost painful, pulling me closer, when I try to move back. One hand holds the back of my head to keep me in place. Very well, Dai, the war shall wait. He makes pleased purring noise as he pushes his tongue against my teeth and I bite slightly. I relax into the moment; a bit of pleasure before another day's battles. I slide my hand down his back, and suddenly feel him tense. He releases me from his hold quickly, to wrap his arms tenderly about me.

"My lord, you have not yet eaten."

The reminder brings once again the memory of the Prime Minister.

"Why do you look so disheartened?"  
"I was reminded of our Prime Minister." I explain.

Hi expression sobers; he nods gravely. "And that, Boyue, is why you must eat."

I look about. The mist is thinning, the troops must be brought into perfect order for the coming struggle. "I will eat next chance I get."

Defiance is written all over him; his eyes, so imploringly soft seconds ago, are stern. "The Commander must take proper care of himself."

I laugh a bit. "It will never do to have a discontented general. The force will surely divide." I kiss him lightly and begin on the food he brought. Placated, he looks about for anyone approaching.

"Messenger it seems, my lord." He reports.

I place my bowl back on the tray and turn. A tiny group is approaching comprised of some familiar guards and a man I don't know. The moment of intimacy has been broken, but no matter. Mist will creep over the land again; I will be lost in love again. For now I compose myself to receive those approaching.

***

__

Love and other socially acceptable emotions are morphine

They're morphine

Cleverly concealing primal urges often felt but rarely seen

Rarely seen

Love I beg you

Lift me up into that privileged point of view

The world of two

Love don't leave me

Because I console myself that Hallmark cards are true

I really do

***

() This mist is so merciful. The privacy of swirling gray-white is soothing to the pain in my heart. Strangely, fog seems to also muffle noise; the world is so quiet today. So merciful, almost painless. I feel the mist inside myself, gray and numb.

The questions of the guards were easy to answer satisfactorily. They were almost boring, but worth it for this man before me. I know he is skilled in war, and there is some quality I cannot quite identify that eases my ache. As for the general beside him, I struggle to focus on Jiang Wei. The general must be Ma Dai; his beauty is not at all subtle, in fact his blatant sex appeal is close to overwhelming. But that is not entirely good. Such thoughts hurt today, so I return my attention to Jiang Wei.

"Let's hear you story."

"Xiahou Ba, styled Zhongquan, I long served Wei under Sima Yi." The name brings a twinge to my wounded emotions. I swallow and continue. "But Sima Yi, not content to hold power greater than that of the named ruler, turned against Cao Shuang. Not only did he execute all the courtiers who were close with Cao Shuang, but their families, and then he sent and edict for my nephew. What could I do? I revolted against the murderous usurper. But I was defeated, so I have come to offer my allegiance to the kingdom of Shu-Han against the rebel." Though I allow personal feelings to lengthen my speech, he listens patiently.

"Of course you are to be made quite welcome." He extends a hand to take mine. "As is well obvious, our force needs assistance. I am most glad to have you." He motions for me to sit beside him; I accept the invitation and kneel to his right as those who escorted me are dismissed.

"Your men will be brought into our ranks and well treated." he assures me.

I begin to thank him, but his finger comes swiftly to my lips. "I pray we may be dear friends, Zhongquan."

I smile, nod, relax into the private moment this mist provides us. He seems to radiate a sort of claming, enticing intimacy. We three sit quiet in the fog; I feel my anger and hurt change slowly, become substanceless as the fog, just a bit of this illusion of life. How nice to let myself drift contemplatively in this illusion. It will do for now, until the cycles bring something else around.

***

__

I'm gunning down romance

It never did a thing for me

But heartache and misery

Ain't nothing but a tragedy

Love don't leave me

Take these broken wings

I'm going to take these broken wings

And learn to fly

And learn to fly away

And learn to fly away

I'm gunning down romance


	3. Liber Tertius

So much for four books.  I have no idea how many it will be now.  This chapter was a little difficult; it kept going in unexpected directions.  No song for this one, because none fits, plus it has its own poem.  Hope you like it.  Rating is now pg-13 for swearing. Torn Emotions 

            ()  I lick a stray drop of wine off my lips.  How many cups has it been since I began the first phase of my revenge?  I tell everything I know of fortifications, terrain, strengths, weaknesses.  I betray entirely my former kingdom and liege lord.  Gratefully I swallow another cupful.  Revenge this certainly is; it should be sweet.  So why this queasiness?  Why this inner turmoil that warm wine and Jiang Wei's praise cannot quiet.  But I took the right course.  I had Sima Yi's treachery harshly thrust in my face, so I turned to Shu to aid against the wretch.  Jiang Wei himself said I could honor the ancients.  This was the obvious and correct action.  Right?  Though where is the honor in betraying your kingdom, changing your allegiance?  But that is what he did.  The house of Cao was weak; change is the course of the cycle.  Did I not trade my service for my safety?  I am alive thanks to Shu.  I am alive, but if Sima Yi is a traitor I am doubly so, at least.  I supported him, then revolted.  As he did to the house of Cao.  I revolted and I ran; not only did I run but I defected.  So untrue- to Zhongda, to Wei, to myself.  Would it not have been honorable to die in revolt?

            Jiang Wei refills my cup and presses it into my hands.

            "I cannot express my gratitude for this, Zhongquan."

            A dull horror creeps through my mind as I discover that all the while I have been lost in my unhappy thoughts I have been talking.  And after so long drinking.  I hope desperately I have not said anything foolish.  Jiang Wei's warm smile sets my head spinning, or is it the wine?

            "Are you all right?" he asks.

            "Yes, yes, thank you."

            He stands and approaches me.  My vision blurs; for a moment he is followed by a ghost of himself.

            "I am sure you are quite tired.  I regret we lack adequate sleeping accommodations.  Perhaps, Ma Dai, you would be so generous as to share your tent?"

            Ma Dai nods, though I see his quick glare before masking his emotions.  "Oh, but I couldn't cause him that unnecessary trouble.  Most kind offer, but I beg to sleep among the common soldiers as the slightest inconvenience I could be." I babble.

            Jiang Wei helps me up, wraps his arm steadyingly about me.  "How could a valuable military adviser like yourself sleep among common soldiers?  Zhongquan, you must have proper treatment.  It is no trouble."

            I am too tired to continue this charade of objection.  Ma Dai places his hand on my arm.  "Let me show you to tonight's bed."

            I take leave of Jiang Wei and the others and follow Ma Dai to his tent.  Somehow he reads my mind, or maybe I sway on my feet, for he objects before I offer.  "No, we oughtn't trouble with preparing another bed.  The nights are none too warm.  I'll be happy to share."

            He cuts off the thanks I begin and makes me lie down.  "I have a bit more to see to.  I'll return soon."

            He excuses himself and leaves quietly.  I arrange a blanket over myself and find sleep in instants.

***

***

            []  Ma Dai faces me, his eyes dark and bright.

            "Yes, I am confident this is wise."

            "But he's Xiahou Ba.  Don't you think he's a spy for Wei?  That ancient defection ploy?"

            "He bears no mark of physical harm as is common in such ruses, and gave us more information than I had hoped.  There's no trickery to this, I'm sure."

            "My lord, he's sleeping in my bed.  Wine sodden, snoring on my pillow."  Fury creeps into Ma Dai's voice despite his efforts.  "Even if this is no trick, he was with Sima Yi through the actual seizing of power.  He only revolted when his nephew was threatened.  And after defeat in revolt, he fled to us.  How can he be trustworthy?"

            "Hush."  I do not like to be so short with him, but my decision has been made and I am tired.  Ma Dai's scowl intensifies.

            "Go.  Rest." I tell him.  He bows coldly and turns to go.

            "Goodnight, Dai."  My words are soft, just a bit longing.

            Not even a glance tossed back to me as he leaves.  Heavy hearted, I fold my arms on the table, pillowing my head.  Must Ma Dai resent Xiahou Ba this way?  I could see deep pain in his eyes when he spoke of Sima Yi.  The man deserves sympathy rather than contempt.  I myself once turned as he has, relinquished chances of heroism for loyal support of Wei.  Though Ma Dai did not argue poorly he must not have been thinking, for haven't I faithfully served Shu?  Wouldn't I, out of all men, be the one able to understand and win Ba?  I, out of all men, must.  Gods know that this army is in trouble.  If Ba truly does wish to help us, he may as well be an angel messenger of the Yellow Emperor.  I do not think he is a spy for Wei, but I do worry that if he finds Shu displeasing he will leave for Wu, and what a loss that would be.  I know in my heart that Shu-Han is dying.  Nightmare thought; I will continue the work of Kongming and only wish I could have met with the Three Brothers.  Possibly in the dreams I feel stealing over me.  Dreams transcend the normal cycles, to bring visions and guidance.  Maybe this dream will show me something.

***

***

            ()  I wake up shivering in cold predawn half-light.  After a moment of vague panic I remember where I am.  Ma Dai is sitting near me, watching with jaded interest that irks me.  "Why is it so damn cold here?" I snap.

            Ma Dai only shrugs.  As if my mood is not sour enough, I cease focusing on my displeasure with the temperature long enough to notice a fuzzy feeling yet somehow sharp headache.  Wondering what became of my blanket I get up and look about.  Ma Dai's tent is meticulously clean.  Not Spartan, but sterile.  I quash the irrational contempt goading my sharp tongue and glance around in search of something to warm myself.  Ma Dai seems to smirk as he finally tosses me a cloak.  What is wrong with the kid, I think as I wrap myself in the heavy material.

            "Come.  We meet the Commander."

            I follow Ma Dai out of the tent into the motherfucking cold and sunless world.  The brat strides cockily ahead, as if to further irritate me.  Nice ass, though.  I struggle to control my mood and try to tell myself that I'm just tired and a little hung over and hungry and goddamn cold and still smarting thanks to _him_.  I want to scream, or to cry, or to kick Ma Dai.  I almost do when I very nearly smack into him, not realizing he has stopped.  I scuffle to a halt, cursing myself for how graceless I am.  He looks at me with something that might approach sympathy.

            "How could I not notice how cold you are!" he exclaims.  "Here," he puts his arm around me and comes close, "it's not much farther.  Just the top of that hill."  He points to a wooded hilltop.

            Though happy for what warmth he provides, I tense, wanting to pull roughly away.  Sarcastic, snot-nosed little—I cut off my mental tirade and focus on the coming meeting with Jiang Wei.  I can't show this silly displeasure.  I have to convince him of my desire to serve Shu, my usefulness, my loyalty.  How will I be able to convince anyone of my loyalty, least of all a man who has done almost exactly as I have?  Will his past work to my advantage, or will it be an obstacle?

            A branch pushed aside by Ma Dai swings back, whipping my face with its leaves and twigs.  I snarl to myself and pay more attention to where I am going, a very lucky thing as Jiang Wei is now in sight, sitting on his hilltop.  I try to compose myself, remembering with sudden dismay that I did not bother to arrange my hair.  Too late, I'll just have to hope that some spirit favors me today, though it would seem to have serious competition.  Maybe my bad luck will slowly diminish through the day.  I hope like hell, and bow to Jiang Wei.

***

***

            []  The sun has not yet made an appearance, but tentative heralding rays are softly gilding the sky.  Dawn is my favorite time.  I watch the steam curling off my tea; let my mind drift with the steam.  No shape, timeless.  I feel Ma Dai watching me and leave the pleasant thoughtlessness.  Xiahou Ba, too, is watching me with an appraising and slightly anxious manner.  Little ghostlets of steam wisp off their cups of tea as well, the three twisted columns of vapor forming a thin canopy shimmering in first light.  This would be so perfect but for two things, two wars.  The first war I must consider is full of physical weapons and endangers the kingdom of Shu.  The second is very private, and only endangers Shu if I allow myself to become to caught up in it.

            Ma Dai gives me a very pointed look.  Xiahou Ba's head is bent close over his tea, but his eyes are lifted over the rim of the cup.  Where do I begin?  The first war or the second?  I choose the first.  "All is in order?"

            Logically, the question is addressed to Ma Dai.  In truth it is merely my opening remark.

            "Yes." Ma Dai responds in a detached, automatic way.

            "What do you think will be the enemy's next move?" I ask.

            I sense an irritation in both men at the vagueness of my question.  I can tell their minds are elsewhere.  I am surprised at Ma Dai's comment.

            "Why don't you ask our dear and valuable foe-turned-ally?"

            No visible response from Xiahou Ba, who seems to be contemplating the horizon.  So I take the bait.  Whatever you are hoping for, Ma Dai, I'll let you have it for now.  "How ought we best prepare against our foes?" I rephrase the question to ask something not fully answered last night.

            "Would this not be something best discussed with the others?"

            He most definitely is thinking about something else, though he is very right.  I speak my mind and ask what is in his thoughts.  He tips his head to one side, pausing a few seconds before answering.

            "It seems a dawn most worthy of poetry.  Why prattle of war when those who need to hear are not present, and the setting so unmeriting of violent talk?"

            "Do you have a poem?" I ask, thrown slightly off guard.

            He nods.  "A dream within a dewdrop

                              Turmoil shines through the shimmer

                              Relentless time will not stop

                              Dew fades away

                              For another dream another day

                             The same flower, another petal

                             Another dewdrop gleams

                             This one too swells with dreams

                             Some tender, more rough

                             All passionate, yet airy naught

                             That all too soon will be forgot

                             Dew fades away

                             For another dream another day

                             So lock this dewdrop dream deep in your heart

                             Ere time will force you apart."

            The sun has appeared over the horizon, casting its light about Xiahou Ba from behind, shadowing his features and surrounding him with a halo.  Last night I hoped he might be an angel from the Yellow Emperor; this morning I am sure.  Near perfect but for the scar that throws off the symmetry of his face.    My scarred angel.


End file.
